A Little Gratitude
by remembernaoko
Summary: Gendry would like some thanks for all the work he's been doing. Fairy Tale prompt: Thank you three times.


Gendry would like some thanks for all the work he's been doing.

Fairy Tale prompt: _Thank you three times._

**_"A Little Gratitude"_**

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A wave of annoyance surged through Gendry's veins as he heard Arya's voice barking more orders. He was already doing as she bid, collecting wood from the forest in order to bring their cottage some warmth.

_Bloody woman. What does she want now?_

Gendry gave a loud grunt as he kicked the old oak door open, throwing the wood on the floor. The surprisingly loud blow caused Arya to jump.

"Careful, stupid!" Arya growled, her hands over her hips.

"Aye, but I have more work. You called after me," he said curtly.

Arya's wolfish eyes narrowed at him. Though she was still a slim thing, her belly was finally beginning to round with child. She told him it had been four moons since she bled, but one wouldn't have known before these past few days. A pang of guilt gnawed at Gendry's belly. If he had been a better hunter, a better provider he could have filled her hungry belly sooner. But he was just a boy from King's Landing that lived off bowls of brown until the Riverlands where he lived off whatever food was found or stolen. _Arya _was the hunter but her condition left her in no state to hunt for very long. They had lived off the occasional rabbit or squirrel and acorn paste for months now that the winter snow was starting to thaw. However, it was still bitter cold and Arya was taking her anger out on him.

"You don't have to throw the wood like that. The wood's done nothing to you."

Gendry bit the inside of his mouth and brushed some frost tinged hair from his eyes. "As you say, m'lady."

The sarcasm was not missed. As he expected, her grey eyes fumed. "Shut up. I'm so fucking tired of you calling me that. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times!"

There were some choice responses that Gendry had in mind, but rather than say them that instance, he walked over to their sunken mattress on the cottage's cold stone floor. He planted himself down and kicked his worn boots off to the side. Arya scowled at him as she rushed to close the oak door, attempting to keep out some of the cold winds.

"And just who do you think you are?" Arya asked as she loomed over Gendry's resting figure.

He closed his eyes shut. "I could ask the same of you. A little bloody thanks would be nice. I'm not here to just serve a princess. I deserve respect, too."

He felt a small, cold foot smack his thigh at that, but before she could kick him again, Gendry grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her down onto the bed.

"I'm not a princess," she muttered as she sat up, hands over her belly.

_That much is true. No princess would be having a bastard babe with some baseborn smith in a freezing cottage way out in North where no one could find them unless they wished to be found. _

"Is that all you want? A thanks?" She spat out.

Was that he wanted? He wanted that and much more. He wanted a warm home for the both of them…and the babe coming soon. He wanted Arya wrapped in his arms, warm and pleased and with a full belly. He wanted to feel like a man. Arya was special. She deserved more than what the likes of him could give, but she refused to return to Winterfell. It wasn't her place, she said. Not anymore.

There were times when he wished he could take her back. Take her to a warm castle where she wouldn't be hungry or be cold. A place where the babe could be more. He could get on elsewhere. A smith could find work wherever decent steel was needed. Poor bastards like him were never meant for much in the world. But…the thought was almost unbearable. Being separated from her made his heart ache, made him the bitter, angry half person he was before he saw her once more. He didn't want to know what he'd be like after the babe was born. His only family in the world lay within Arya Stark. Gendry opened his eyes, turning his head to look at Arya. She looked beautiful though the flashes of grey daylight that managed to creep from the boarded cottage windows. Her long brown hair was messy, her long, pale face was covered with pink all over those high, sharp cheeks, and her lips looked chapped and plump. The sudden desire to bite into her lips was overwhelming. But instead of causing another lip bleed as he had in the past, his palm found her knee over the loose, tattered roughspun breeches. He noticed that she had to keep the top portion of the laces untied in order to accommodate her growing belly. Arya would have to start wearing shifts soon. The vision of her in a dress set a smirk on his face. He quite liked Arya in a dress. All pink and scrubbed and clean and wearing dresses like most women do.

"What do you think is so funny?" she snapped.

Gendry sighed. "Nothing is all, it's just you're too big for your breeches now."

"Yes and that's your fault, you idiot."

His eyes, round in surprise, met hers. "Mine?"

She poked a stiff finger at his furs. "Yes, yours. If you hadn't been so eager to stick your cock in me at all hours of each day, I wouldn't be too big for my breeches and I wouldn't be sick every morning and I would be able to hunt properly and I wouldn't have to rely on you, _a big dolt_, for chores! So that's why you deserve no thanks!"

Feeling a fury build in his chest, Gendry stat up and shoved off his furs to the side of the bed. "My fault? Seems I don't recall you exactly turning me down. In fact, I remember many a time where you were more than keen to get a proper fuck. Aye, I remember _you_ crawling under _my _furs the first time, and many times after that."

Any other woman would've blushed or cursed him for such brazen words, but Arya did neither. And perhaps he should've known. Arya did as she pleased, caring for neither rules nor expectations.

"Alright. Is that what you'd like? I'll give you good thanks if that will turn you into something other than this tiring, insufferable bastard loafing on my bed."

Normally, Gendry would have a sharp response to that, but his words were cut off by the sight of Arya peeling off her tunic. Her small breasts were heavier and rounder now, the dusty nipples taking a darker hue that left Gendry's mouth going slack. His hand ran up from where it rest on her knee to stroke her thigh, but Arya slapped it off.

"What kind of thanks is that?" Gendry muttered darkly as he rubbed his hand.

"Hush."

Arya started to undo the rest of the laces on her breeches while Gendry started on his own. He rubbed his now stiff cock as Arya shimmied out of her breeches and threw them where his furs lay. Faint scars appeared on Arya's growing belly, developments he hadn't seen while they made love in the dark. She made a truly lovely sight, naked and furious, as she rested her pale, full thighs atop his. Her palms landed on his shoulders as she leaned over to give him a kiss. The kiss was heady and desperate, the sort of kiss they hadn't had since before she realized her moonblood wouldn't be coming for some time. Gendry moved his hands over to her body, one touching her stomach and the other squeezing one of her breasts.

Gendry was panting by the time Arya pulled his cock from his breeches and sank down on him. A breath got caught in his throat as he felt her-tight, soft, and warm. Arya bit on her lip as she rose and up down, her pale skin flushing with each movement. Their sweat and heavy breathing bonded together, but Gendry wanted more. He sat up, Arya bouncing atop him all the while, and pulled her arms around his neck.

She whimpered in response. "Gendry-I'm go-going t'p-peak. F-fuck me harder. _Please_," Arya rasped out. It took all of his strength not to buck into her furiously or finish as Arya rode him relentlessly, but his eyes did fall into the back of head.

Taking a heavy breath, Gendry leaned into Arya's ear. "You haven't said your thanks yet. When you do, I'll fuck you until you peak. Promise."

Nails dug deep into his shoulders, no doubt breaking skin, and Gendry groaned. Arya slammed down even harder than before.

_Too fucking stubborn. _

Gendry attempted to think of every horrible, unappealing thing he had ever seen to keep himself from finishing early, but Arya felt too fucking good. He knew he wouldn't last soon as long as she kept at her movements. But then Arya cried out. He had lost, he knew for that second.

"_Fine_, you win. I give up. _Thank you. Thank you. I love you._ Is that enough? Just fuck me," she hurried out in a hoarse whisper.

Wasting no time, Gendry flipped her down onto the bed. She looked so flushed and sweaty that Gendry's cock twitched at the sight alone. He bent over her, careful to mind her stomach, and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before began to pump in earnest. He finished before Arya did, but she was louder as legs pulled him close to her.

Feeling more than a bit pleased with himself, Gendry rolled off of Arya. He pulled her into his chest and she sighed, tickling the muscles on his stomach.

"Was that good enough thanks?"

Gendry shook his head. "No, I think a few more are needed."

Arya pinched him. "You're lucky you can't get another babe on me."

"Maybe I will. After this one is born, I mean."

"You're mad."

The annoyed tone in her voice was enough reason for Gendry to continue teasing. "Two or three more, I think. Strong lads or lively girls kissed by winter. What's wrong with that?"

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Feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading.


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